


Grown-ups Come Back

by IchiBri



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Fluff, Hurt, It's sad folks, M/M, Tragedy, family au, married au, very little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 21:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchiBri/pseuds/IchiBri
Summary: “Takashi.” Eyes like smoke and a tender smile reserved just for him appeared on Keith’s closed eyelids. Like a mirage in the desert, the edges of Shiro’s defined jaw and the curled tuft of his bangs wavered. A single droplet in the pool of his image was enough to wash it all away. “How do I tell her?”In which the pain of losing a husband must be pushed aside for the pain of a daughter losing her father.





	Grown-ups Come Back

Keith pulled at his bow tie to straighten it.  The shirt collar itched his neck, but as he stared at himself in the mirror, he had to admit he cleaned up well even if it wasn’t the most comfortable of getup.  But then again, it wasn’t every day he could take his husband to a fancy dinner show for their anniversary.

“What do ya think, Kei?”  His eyes turned down to meet the big brown doe-like gaze of his daughter in the mirror.

Holding tightly to his pressed slacks, Keiko pouted.  “Papa’s always pretty.”

With a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, Keith stooped low to sweep Keiko into his arms.  A breath of bubbly giggles fell like music from her lips as Keith settled her on his hip.  “What’s with the face then?”  He tapped her nose, and it wrinkled beneath his touch.

Keiko’s bottom lip jutted out as she absently kicked her legs against Keith’s stomach.  Her hands grasped a suspender strap, and she pulled.  With the soft snap of its release, she said, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, sweetheart.”  Keith cupped her cheek and swept away a few strands of hair with his thumb.  “But Papa and Daddy need some adult time.”

Ever defiant and clever, Keiko hummed as she smoothed her palms over the silkiness of Keith’s white button-down.  “But I need Papa and Daddy time.”

A quiet puff of air blew from Keith’s nose.  Tipping his head forward, he touched his forehead to his daughter’s.  “Tell you what.  You can have some Uncle Lance and Auntie Allura time tonight.  And then tomorrow you, me, and Daddy can spend the afternoon at the zoo.  How’s that sound?”

Keiko pursed her lips as she considered the offer.  With a lidded gaze and a soft hum, she quietly asked, “Can we feed the giraffes?”

“We can spend the entire time feeding them if that’s what you want.”

“Okay.  Deal,” she said with a squeaky pitch of her voice.  Wriggling and squirming, Keiko pushed off of Keith’s chest until he set her on her own two feet.  “Daddy’ll be so excited when I tell him.”

Keith stifled a snort as the memory from their last trip to the zoo surfaced to the forefront of his mind.  Oh, how Shiro loved that long purple tongue licking up the side of his face!  Keith dearly hoped that giraffe would be hungry tomorrow and offer a repeat performance.  “Why don’t you go tell him then?”

Keiko lit up like a lightning bug as she scurried from the bedroom with excited cries of “Daddy Shiro!” tumbling from her lips.  Eyes falling shut, Keith relished in the padding footsteps of bare feet running on hardwood floor.  He breathed a gentle inhale that had the corners of his lips tenderly upturning.

When his eyes blinked open to his reflection in the mirror, a silent breath escaped his parted lips at the utter adoration softening his features.  Cheeks glowing and irises shining, the warmth which blossomed in his chest never failed to leave him breathless.

Neatly, he folded the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows.  His touch lingered at his left wrist, trailing upward to the base of the third finger.  Etched in gold, the words engraved on the band were as bold and beautiful as the day it was placed on his finger six years ago.

At the ring of the doorbell echoing faintly through the house, Keith shook from his daze.  He draped a deep wine-red suit jacket over his arm and exited the bedroom.  The tap of his oxfords resounded with each step down the hall.

A low, long whistle rang through the open concept house as Keith walked out of the shadow of the hallway.  “Don’t you two make a fancy pair?” Lance called from the front entrance bench where he sat with one shoe unlaced.

Keith’s gaze swept over Lance and Allura.  His steps faltered when he saw his husband standing in a brilliant white suit jacket with black-lined pockets and lapels.  Hair slicked back, a stray white strand fell over his forehead.  A tiny hand on his cheek, Keiko turned in Shiro’s arms, and Keith was faced with two pairs of dazzling eyes and lips that spread into beaming grins.

Next time, they’d bring Keiko with, and she’d wear the prettiest silk dress with a red bow tied around her middle.  And Keith would take so many pictures they’d fill an entire album.

Still frozen with mouth agape and a heart fluttering like a butterfly in his chest, it was Shiro who crossed over to Keith.  Shiro dipped his head low to whisper in Keith’s ear, “You look beautiful, babe.”  As he pulled back, the heat of his breath lingered on Keith’s lobe and trailed along Keith’s cheek.

Quietly, to Keiko, Shiro counted, “Ready?  One, two, three.”

Leaning out of Shiro’s hold, Keiko smooshed her lips against Keith’s cheek in a wet kiss as Shiro claimed Keith’s other cheek with a firm peck.  Bubbles of laughter floated up Keith’s throat as he tipped his head to catch Keiko’s retreating face.  A brush of his lips on the tip of her nose had tinkling giggles mingling with his own breathy laughter.

“Love you, sweetheart,” Keith cooed as he took Keiko from Shiro.  “You’ll be a good girl for Lance and Allura, right?”

“Always am,” she beamed.

Allura hummed, deep and low in her chest, as Lance snorted.  With a raised eyebrow, she said, “Someone seems to be forgetting the ice cream fiasco that got Auntie Allura in a heap of trouble.”

Keiko’s lips pressed together in a quivering line as the dimples on her cheeks deepened with the crinkles of her eyes.  Innocently, she batted her long lashes.  “Ice cream?  I don’t like ice cream.”

With a twitch of Allura’s brow, her smile wavered.  Flashbacks of mop buckets and sticky syrup dripping from the ceiling played like a movie reel before her eyes.  The black leather couch hadn’t always been the comfort of choice in Keith’s and Shiro’s home.  In its place, a beautiful white sofa once sat, but that all changed the night little Keiko wanted to make ice cream sundaes.  Needless to say, it now took two friends to keep the child from burning the place to the ground.

But as Keith set Keiko on the floor, he didn’t miss that sofa one bit.  “That’s good, because Daddy Shiro ate all the ice cream last night.”

Mouth agape, Keiko gasped – so scandalized it put soap opera acting to shame.  “T-that’s fine.”  She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

With a sharp side-eye, Shiro elbowed Keith.  That was supposed to be their little secret until they could go grocery shopping and pick up some more.  “Rude,” he hissed under his breath, but there was no heat behind the word.

Shiro squatted down to Keiko’s eye level.  “Daddy’s sorry, but he had a rough day at work yesterday.  And you know how I get after a rough day.”

Keiko drew in an exaggerated inhale through her nose and released it as a longsuffering sigh.  “Yeah, you eat all the candy.  And chocolate.  And peanut butter.  And–”

“And,” Shiro quickly cut in with a sheepish laugh.  Gently, he coaxed her to uncross her arms so he could hold her hands in his.  So small and soft, they were incredibly warm for such a little body, and Shiro continued to marvel at the strength within such a tiny grasp.  If only she would stay this small forever, he often thought.  But no matter how big she grew, she’d always be his little girl.  “Do you forgive Daddy?”

Swaying on her feet, Keiko lightly hummed her contemplation before a broad smile spread across her face.  “Yes,” she said as she threw her arms around Shiro’s middle and squeezed with all the might of a tiny warrior.

Shiro’s arms easily encircled her.  He tipped his head to kiss the peak of her forehead.  “I love you, my little tornado.  Behave, okay?”

With a ruffle of her hair, Shiro moved to stand.  But the fingers curled into his back clenched tighter.  “Sweet pea, Daddy’s gotta go,” he softly said.

“But I already miss you,” came Keiko’s muffled whisper.

Shiro glanced up at Keith, and they shared a silent swooning moment in which their hearts swelled with love and endearment.

Knowing Shiro was sentimental enough to cancel their evening in favor of a Ghibli movie marathon and mugs of hot chocolate, Keith knelt down beside the pair and placed a gentle hand on Keiko’s back.  “What do we always say, Kei?”

Keiko lifted her face and turned sullen eyes to her papa.  “Grown-ups come back,” she quietly muttered.

“And when we do,” Keith began, gaze looking to Shiro.

Shiro finished, “We kiss you goodnight.”

Both leaned in close to kiss Keiko’s cheeks, and her signature toothy smile returned to her lips.  “Promise?” she asked through a gleeful breath.

“Promise,” Shiro and Keith said at the same time.

With a nod of her head, Keiko released her hold on Shiro.  “Come back quick.”

“We will.”  Shiro smiled.  He patted her head as both he and Keith stood.  “Bye-bye, sweet pea.”

Fingers curling, Keiko waved as Shiro and Keith walked toward the door.  Keith mimicked the child-like wave as he told Lance and Allura, “If she starts missing us, just put on Finding Nemo.  It’s already in the player.”

The first time Keiko watched the fish movie, she was enthralled by the bright colors and underwater scenery.  But what captured her attention the most was the Moorish idol Gill who she claimed looked just like Daddy Shiro.

“We got it covered,” Lance said.  He shooed the happy couple out the front door before Keith could even shrug into his suit jacket.

Keith blinked as the front door shut in his face.  “Were we just kicked out of our own home?”

“Would we have left otherwise?” Shiro countered with a quirk of his lips.

Who was Keith kidding?  Shiro wasn’t the only sentimental sap in their relationship.  If it wasn’t for Lance or Hunk or Pidge effectively kicking them out the door, their date nights would be spent playing tea party and drinking grape juice out of miniature cups.

Chuckling, Shiro’s prosthetic hand settled at the small of Keith’s back.  He craned his head to speak a hairsbreadth from Keith’s ear, voice low and gravelly, “You look far too dashing to remain locked in the tower of domesticity.”

The heat of Shiro’s breath sent a tingling shiver down Keith’s spine.  His lower lip rolled between the bite of his teeth as his gaze narrowed on Shiro’s eyes – the light of the moon above reflecting in the depths of the dark irises.  “That’s cheating,” Keith said.  “And I’ll have you know, I greatly enjoy the domestic life.”

A puff of air blew from Shiro’s nostrils as he relieved Keith of his suit jacket.  Holding it up behind Keith, Shiro said, “Says the one who looks like a mobster.”

“Yeah?  Do I strike fear in the hearts of men?”  Keith slipped his arms into the jacket and sighed a contented breath when Shiro smoothed the fabric over his shoulders.

“You strike something within me,” Shiro laughed – breathy and heartily.  “Not sure if it’s fear though.”

“Fear and arousal go hand in hand,” Keith smirked.

A thick eyebrow raising, Shiro said, “Oh, is that right?”

With a shrug, Keith started down the path to the street where Shiro’s car was parked.  “Perhaps we’ll never know.”

Shiro’s steps tapped against the sidewalk as he hurried to catch up with Keith.  The sound echoed through the still suburban night, growing closer and closer behind Keith’s lazy strolling strides.  When fingers encircled Keith’s wrist, his lips ghosted upward at the tug which pulled him to a stop.

The lips he’d grown so accustomed to kissing over the years met his with an unyielding force.  Smiling into it, mirth-filled breaths puffed from his lungs as he reached a hand to touch Shiro’s face.  He smoothed back the stray strands of bangs, thumb trailing along Shiro’s hairline.

“We’re gonna be late,” Keith said, a mere whisper on the caressing breeze.

Shiro hummed, the sound a reverberating rumble in his chest.  Soft, pliant lips lingered a breath from Keith’s, so close they feathered against one another before Shiro tipped his forehead to touch Keith’s.  “We can spare one more minute.”

A minute or five, who was keeping track?  Definitely not Keith and Shiro as they savored each other’s warmth.

Practically on their doorstep, they were as foolishly in love as the day they unlocked the front door for the first time and Shiro unceremoniously slung Keith over his shoulder to carry him across the threshold.  Not one to be outdone, Keith demanded they go back outside and reenact it with switched roles.  Shiro had graciously agreed, and Keith would never forget the sheepish gasp and flushed cheeks as he swept Shiro off his feet.

Or the day Keiko’s adoption was finalized and Keith carried their new bundle of joy into their home.  Shiro hovered close – never more than a step behind – as he lugged in a heaping diaper bag as quietly as he could.  They sat shoulder to shoulder on the plush carpeting in the freshly painted nursery.  Leaning against each other, they watched Keiko sleep for hours, watched each rise and fall of her chest, each flicker of her eyelids, each twitch of a tiny finger.  And when Keiko’s hand grasped at air, they took turns letting her little fingers curl around one of theirs.

“How long’s it been?” Shiro quietly asked, his thumb caressing the soft fuzz at the nape of Keith’s neck.

“More than a minute.”

“No,” Shiro laughed, the sound short and sweet.  “How long’s it been since I fell in love with you?”

Keith’s eyes blinked open to gleaming irises and a tender curve of lips.  “A while,” he breathlessly said as his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

Without missing a beat, Shiro said, “Nine years, three months, and twelve days.”

“It feels so much longer than that.”  Keith sighed.  Ever since he met Shiro back in college, Keith’s days grew longer.  The sun seemed to hang in the sky, and the moon lingered in the night to extend their time together.  Every extra second – every heartbeat in which they were by each other’s side – felt like a dream of his wildest fantasies.

“Shall we make tonight another to remember?”

Keith nodded, but he was reluctant to pull away.  By the way Shiro lingered close, his hands still holding Keith’s waist, Keith would say Shiro felt the same.  As if of one body and mind, they both leaned forward to close the last speck of space between their lips for a final, sweet kiss before parting to the chill night air.

But their hands remained clasped, fingers intertwining and caressing knuckles.  Even for just those few short strides to the car, they held onto one another as if they’d drift apart at sea.  And when the need to part came quicker than either wanted, their touch lingered, fingers feathering along each other’s to the very tips.

Shiro rounded the vehicle to the driver’s seat as Keith settled in as the passenger.  With a click of their seatbelts, Shiro turned the key in the ignition, and the car purred to life.

“So, I hear we’re going to the zoo tomorrow,” Shiro casually said as he shifted into drive.

Lips twitching, Keith bit back a cheeky smirk.  “Mhmm,” he hummed.

“And _someone_ –” Keith snorted at Shiro’s poorly veiled side-eye “–said we’d spend all day feeding the giraffes.”

If anyone asked where Keiko learned her innocent puppy eye technique, they only had to see the way Keith batted his eyelashes at Shiro to find the answer.  “Do you not like giraffes?”

Shiro’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel.  “Oh, I love them,” he drawled.  “Couldn’t imagine anything else I’d rather be licked by.”

“Oh, really?”  A bubble of laughter leaked into Keith’s voice.  Reaching his hand across the center console, it settled on Shiro’s knee with a firm squeeze.

Shiro’s dark eyes flicked to his lap for a short second before returning to the road ahead.  “I said anything, not anyone.”

“Tell you what,” Keith began.  “If you indulge our daughter and me with the giraffes, then I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Tempting offer, _darling_.”  The term of endearment rolled off Shiro’s tongue so smoothly – sultrily – but a heartbeat later he lightly chuckled.  “But I was convinced the moment our little tornado came slipping down the hall.”

Head lolling to the side, Keith smiled at the affection in Shiro’s eyes.  Oncoming headlights and the glow of street lamps passed over Shiro’s face like shadows of heaven above.  “You’re wrapped around her little finger.”

“Sure am.”  Shiro’s eyes flicked to Keith, a glimmer to their depths that reminded Keith how in love with this man he truly was.  “I’d forsake the world for her.”

“You and me both.”  Keith contently sighed.  His eyes blinked closed as his shoulders relaxed into the seat.

At one time in his life, Keith thought it was him against the world.  But then his world changed.  It was no longer this small, desolate place that he isolated himself into.  It was Shiro and Keiko.  Their friends, their careers.  And before Keith knew it, his family was his world.

“Hey, Takashi,” he softly said, a whisper compared to the classical piano music playing through the speakers.

Shiro hummed as he flicked on the car’s right turn signal.

Keith’s eyes lazily blinked open.  “I l–”

The glare of headlights shined through the driver’s side window.  Far too fast, they barreled through the intersection despite the red light demanding they stop behind the white line.  Keith’s body lurched forward – seatbelt digging painfully into his collarbone – as Shiro slammed on the breaks.  The screech of tires on pavement rang through the night, followed shortly by the crunch of metal colliding and glass shattering.

 _‘I love you,’_ Keith had wanted to say.

 

Settled between Allura and Lance in a makeshift blanket fort, Keiko’s eyes were glued to the television screen.  The remnants of a half-eaten pizza crust sat on the plate in her lap as her toes wiggled beneath a blanket.  “Ah, there’s Daddy!”  She kicked her legs in excitement, sending the pizza crust tumbling to Allura’s thigh.

Lance reached across Keiko to snatch the pizza.  Popping it into his mouth, he loudly chewed as he asked, “Wait, if Gill’s Shiro, then who’s Keith?”

“The puffer fish, maybe?” Allura laughed.

“Oh, I get it.  Cause he’s a prick.”

“Lance!” Allura scolded with a backhand to his skull.

“Shi– Shoot.”  Lance craned forward to meet Keiko’s curious gaze.  “Don’t say prick, okay?  It’s a bad word, and your papa would skin me alive if he knew I taught it to you.”

Keiko’s lips curved sharply at their edges.  She stared straight into Lance’s soul as she calmly said, “Prick.”

“No, no no,” Lance frantically said as he waved his hands as if to shoo the word out of existence.

With a hand covering her mouth, Allura tittered at his expense.  “Rest in pieces.”

“Don’t you mean peace?” Lance faux-cried.

“No.  It’s Keith we’re talking about.  It’ll be pieces.”

As Lance contemplated if the contents of his wallet were enough to bribe Keiko’s silence, the little girl herself looked back to the TV screen.  Her hands folded delicately in her lap as she listened intently to Gill’s escape plan.

“Papa isn’t shown,” she suddenly said.

Lance blinked out of his mental stupor.  “Huh?”

Much more eloquently, Allura gently asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“Papa’s in the ocean.  He’s why Daddy wants to escape the tank so bad.”

Allura audibly gasped as she clutched a hand over her heart.  Her watery blue eyes turned to Lance as her lips pressed in a firm line to keep any uncouth squealing from slipping free.

“So precious!” Lance stage-whispered as he ruffled Keiko’s hair.

With a rambunctious giggle, Keiko ducked out of Lance’s reach.  She squirmed and weaseled under the blanket until she popped out on the other side by their feet.  A big, toothy grin creased the corners of her eyes as she proudly exclaimed, “Prick!”

“No!” Lance sobbed.  “Not precious, you little devil!”

Amidst the commotion of laughter and vulgar words, Allura’s phone vibrated in her pocket.  With gaiety brightening her voice, she answered with a lighthearted, “Hello.”

A sniffle crackled over the line.  “Allura?” came Pidge’s hoarse voice.  “Are you with Kei?”

Allura’s lips downturned, and her brow furrowed.  “Yeah.  But, Pidge, what’s wr–”

“Leave the room.”  Another sniffle and the sound of crumpling tissue.

“Pidge–”

“Allura, please.  Leave the room.”

“Okay.  Hang on a second.”  Allura shrugged at the quirked eyebrow Lance raised.  She crawled out of the blanket fort, smiling and offering Keiko a quiet “I’ll be right back” before standing and heading for the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Allura said, “Okay, I’m alone.  Now what’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident,” Pidge’s voice wavered.  Her words were accented by stuttered breaths.  “Keith’s okay, but Shiro… He’s–” A sob cut like a knife over the line.  “Allura, Shiro’s dead.”

A sharp inhale pierced Allura’s chest with an aching pain deep inside.  She staggered on her feet.  A hand dropped to the vanity to hold herself up.  “Wh-what happened?”  Her voice sounded foreign to her ears.  So subdued and hesitant, it didn’t exude the strength required for such a conversation.

“They had the right of way,” Pidge’s voice cracked.  “A-another driver ran the red light and- and crashed right into Shiro’s side.”

In through her nose, out through her mouth, Allura breathed.  Her eyes squeezed shut against the sting of tears as she cleared her throat.  Right now, she had to find that strength.  “Uh, how’s Keith?  Is he okay?”

With a snivel, Pidge said, “Yeah.  He’s getting stitches.  Hunk is with him.”

“Okay.”  Allura exhaled a heavy breath, and with it, her shoulders slumped forward.  “Does he… want us to tell Keiko?”

“No.”  The stammering breaths sparked anew in Pidge’s voice.  “Don’t tell her anything.  He wants you to act like nothing’s wrong.”

Allura batted her eyelashes in an attempt to dry the moisture which threatened to trail down her cheeks.  “Okay.  Is he being released tonight?”

“Yeah.  We’ll bring him home.”

Home sounded like a weak word choice when Keith’s home no longer had breath filling his lungs or blood cycling through his heart.  Keith’s home was zipped up in a body bag in the basement morgue, soon to be given back to the earth from which we all came.

But Allura needed to protect the home which remained.  And to do that, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue.  “We’ll be waiting,” she said.

Neither had the heart to goodbye.  So after a long moment of silence between them, they hung up.

Allura’s fingers trembled as she pocketed her phone, and she tried to will them to stop but to no avail.  As long as her eyes remained dry, she told herself.  Even that was teetering a very thin thread, but with a shaky inhale, she exited the bathroom.

“Lance,” she quietly called as she peeked around the hall corner.  At his grunt of response, she said, “I need to speak with you.”

 

He couldn’t breathe.  Air flowed through his parted lips in short, shallow gasps, but Keith felt a vast weight against his chest.  According to the medical tests administered, nothing was wrong with his heart.  His ribs were bruised, but their ache was inconsiderable compared to the hurt clogging his lungs and shriveling his heart.

He didn’t so much as wince as a doctor stitched closed a slice of flesh above his left eyebrow.  Vaguely, he was aware of Pidge slipping around the curtain and heard her muted whispers with Hunk.  But what they were saying, Keith couldn’t be sure.  Right now, he didn’t know if he cared.

The doctor finished and spouted something about discharge papers, but Keith only nodded at their words.  Maybe it was the pain medication dulling his senses, but Keith felt numb.

None of this could be real.  He’d wake up, and it’d all be a bad dream.  His eyes would blink open blearily to the veiled lids of Shiro’s.  He’d reach out a hand and run his fingers through the fuzz of Shiro’s undercut, chuckling at how shaggy it was getting.  Shiro’s chest would expand with a deep, contented inhale as he unconsciously leaned further into Keith’s touch.  Snuggling closer, Keith would curl his body against Shiro’s in a tangling of limbs and heat.  And just as the bliss of sleep danced on his lashes, their bedroom door would fly open as their little tornado burst in for her good morning kiss.

“–th.  Keith.”

Keith blinked up at Hunk’s call.  Slowly, his eyes followed the nod of Hunk’s head to a petite nurse waiting patiently on the other side of the bed.

“Mr. Shirogane,” she softly said, and for the first time in Keith’s life, hearing that name brought the taste of bile to his tongue.  “I’m very sorry for your loss.  I figured you’d want this back as soon as possible.”  She held out her hand and waited patiently for Keith to stiffly extend his.

A gold band that matched the ring on his finger was set gently upon his palm.  He stared, unblinking as the golden shine blurred into a haze.  A fat teardrop rolled from his eye as his fingers enclosed around the symbol of their love.  His head dropped forward as he raised the fist. Touching the knuckles to his forehead, a sob wrenched up his throat.

“Takashi.”  Eyes like smoke and a tender smile reserved just for him appeared on Keith’s closed eyelids.  Like a mirage in the desert, the edges of Shiro’s defined jaw and the curled tuft of his bangs wavered.  A single droplet in the pool of his image was enough to wash it all away.  “How do I tell her?”

 

Two sizes too big, Shiro’s ring slipped off every finger but Keith’s thumb.  He stared at the engraving as his hand remained frozen upon the doorknob of their house – the walls and a roof that they turned into a home.

The vibrant red front door, Shiro had picked it out.  He said it reminded him of Keith’s fiery personality and that even after his roughest of days at work, he’d smile upon parking on the curb and looking up the pathway to this door.  He said he knew the happiness which lay behind it would brighten even his poorest of moods.

And when Shiro pushed it open with a tired “I’m home”, Keiko never failed to scamper across the floor and greet him with the tightest of bear hugs.  Keith, fondly looking on as Shiro swept their daughter into his arms, closed the distance between them in a few short strides.  Leaning in for a kiss, he always said, “Welcome home, Takashi.”

If he had known yesterday would be the last time he could say those words, Keith would’ve savored how they rolled off his tongue.

He didn’t look back at the quiet sniffling from Pidge behind him.  If he saw her tears, saw Hunk’s quivering lips, then he too would surely succumb to the fog of despair looming all around.  And he couldn’t let his knees give out, couldn’t allow his head to hang in sorrow.

‘For Keiko,’ he silently mouthed as he twisted the knob.

The tap of his oxfords cut through the stillness of the house.  The TV quietly droned in the living room as a single lamp dimly lit the space.  The blanket fort had been cleaned up, and with Keiko dozing in his lap, Lance sat with an arm securely around Allura’s shoulders – her leaning heavily upon him with a puffy swelling to her eyes.

Keith stepped to walk over to his daughter, but Hunk caught his forearm.  Quietly, almost reserved, he said with downcast eyes, “Do you want her to see you like this?”

Keith looked down at himself.  His next breath stuttered from his lungs at the dried stains upon his dress shirt.  He didn’t know if it was his or Shiro’s, and that uncertainty had him squeezing his eyes against the possibility of it being his husband’s blood.

“I…” but Keith couldn’t find his voice.

As silently as he could, he escaped to their bedroom to change.  Only now, he supposed it was no longer plural.  It wasn’t theirs, for Shiro wouldn’t return to this bed.

He stripped off everything in a frenzy of torn seams and popping buttons.  The garments found their way to the bathroom trash, even the oxfords he had dearly loved.  For he could no longer love them knowing they were tarnished with today’s tragedy.

Keith avoided his reflection in the mirror.  Even as he pulled open Shiro’s dresser drawers, he pointedly refused by turning his back to it.

Like Shiro’s ring, his shirts swallowed Keith whole, but Keith still pulled Shiro’s old university hoodie over his head, wincing at the stretch of his abdomen.  Shiro’s sweatpants hung loosely off Keith’s hips, and the bottoms pooled around his feet.  His fingers clutching at his chest, he wondered how long they’d hold Shiro’s scent.  A week, a month, a year?  How long before the must of dust set in and Keith forgot what it was like to breathe in the sweet aroma of spring detergent mixed with the heady scent of humidity in summer?

All too soon, he was sure.

His hands pushed the drawer closed millimeter by millimeter.  But before he could shut it all the way, he stopped and reached his hand along the edge of the wood.  Beneath the folded pajamas, Keith’s grasp closed around a chain and tags.

Those seven months of Shiro’s service had been the longest in Keith’s life.  Longer still it would’ve been if not for the IED which blew up Shiro’s vehicle.  He was one of the lucky ones, losing an arm and gaining a dulled sense of smell, but he walked away with his life.  Some of his comrades in arms couldn’t say the same.

Recovery had been long, and it tried the budding relationship they had before Shiro’s deployment.  But through the nightmares and depression, they saw the light on the other side.  Even when Shiro was ready to give up on himself, Keith believed in his future – in their future.

And what a future it had been!  If someone had told a teenage Keith of the happiness which awaited him, he would’ve scoffed and scuffed his sneakers as he walked the other way.  But now, if someone had warned him of today, Keith would’ve burned the universe to ash to save the love he held so dearly.

He tucked the dog tags in the hoodie pocket before slowly trudging from the room.  Would he be able to sleep peacefully in that bed ever again?  He doubted it, not with the mattress remembering Shiro’s shape.  It had a dull ache throbbing in his chest as he pulled the bedroom door shut with a quiet click.

When he emerged from the darkness of the hall, all was as he left it.  No one dared move a single inch in fear of breaking the dam which held their grief at bay.  But with each step closer to where his daughter dreamt of giraffes in Lance’s lap, Keith heard the dam creak and groan with another added crack.

With a muted grunt of pain, Keith knelt before Lance’s legs.  He reached out with a trembling touch to stroke his daughter’s cheek.  He swallowed down every ounce of sorrow and sadness before he hoarsely said, “Hey, baby girl.”  Keiko stirred, her eyelashes lazily fluttering, as Keith brushed her bangs behind her ear.  “Papa’s home.”

Keiko blearily blinked up at Keith.  Big brown eyes drooped as she held out her arms to him.

Keith picked her up and embraced her close.  Her head lolled to his shoulder, and for a short moment, he contemplated letting her fall back asleep.  But come morning, when she woke up and Daddy wasn’t there for his good morning kiss, she’d be devastated and confused; and Keith couldn’t betray his daughter in such a way.

His lips pressed to her hair as his eyes squeezed shut.  With a shaky exhale, he forced them open again.  “Kei, baby, we need to talk.”

Keith straightened to stand, not without a sharp pain in his abdomen, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing of his heart.  The jostle woke Keiko further.  She rubbed the crust from her eyes as she turned her head to sleepily gaze at her papa’s face.

“Where’s Daddy?”

The words burned like ice.  A sharp gasp and a muffled sob came from Keith’s friends – which ones, he wasn’t sure, but he shared in the sentiment.

“That’s actually what we need to talk about.”  Keith forced a smile to his lips, but it quivered and fell faster than it formed.  His knees felt like jelly.  They threatened to buckle any given moment.

Keiko lifted her head from Keith’s shoulder.  Her eyes blinked wider, more awake than half a minute prior.

“Kei,” Keith swallowed down a whimper.  It settled painfully in his chest as his legs backed into a recliner.  Slowly, he lowered himself to its seat, remembering that morning when Shiro read the newspaper in this very spot.  “There was an accident.”

Keiko reached up to touch the stitches in Keith’s brow.  Her soft, gentle fingers brushed the tender pink edges.

“Daddy was hurt really bad.  Too bad for the doctors to fix.”  DOA.  Doctors couldn’t revive the dead.  “Baby…”  Sniffles and snivels punctuated the air, and Keith couldn’t differentiate his from anyone else’s.  “Daddy died.  He won’t be coming home.”

A moment of complete silence – like the calm before the storm – hung heavily in the room before the dam burst with the pressure of Keiko’s tears.  Mouth agape, her cries were silent gasps as she shook her head.  Fingers sliding down Keith’s cheek, Keiko’s face scrunched up with the first audible wail which passed her lips.

Keith’s arm tightened around her back as he reached to cup her head.  But Keiko pushed against his chest.  “You promised!” she sobbed.  Wet, watery eyes peered through the blur of tears.

“I know.  I’m sorry.”  Keith couldn’t apologize enough.  If he had been driving, if he had chosen a different anniversary activity, if he had given in and stayed home with Keiko, then Shiro would be alive.  He’d have his husband, and Keiko would have her daddy.

Tiny fists hit his collarbone as her legs dug into his ribs.  No bar brawl or high school fight behind the school threw punches that hurt him quite like the grief contained in his daughter’s blows.  But he didn’t let a single grunt or groan escape his chest.

Keith held her close, absorbing each strike.  So much sadness her body didn’t know how to cope, Keith accepted it into himself.  He’d take it all, if only he knew how.

Through coughs and snotty sniffles, Keiko cried, “You said grown-ups come back!  You said you’d come home!  He said–” Her body convulsed with a choked gasp of air.

“Shh, Kei, I know.”  Keith’s hand trailed higher to Keiko’s back, rubbing soothing circles over the ladybug pajama shirt.  “I’m sorry, but it’s not Daddy’s fault.  He wanted to come back.  He did, but sometimes… sometimes people don’t come back.”

Keiko’s hitting weakened until her fingers clutched at her daddy’s hoodie.  Her head dropped to Keith’s shoulder, but her stuttered breaths and accented whimpers still rang in Keith’s ear.  Her papa tipped his head atop her own.

They clung to each other.  In grief and mourning, that’s what family did.  Allura quietly cried upon Lance’s shoulder as Lance bit his bottom lip to hold back his own harrowing sobs.  Hunk hugged Pidge close, enveloping her completely in his arms.  They both sniveled and cried as tears soaked into the fabric of their shirts.

They’d fall asleep like that.  Sprawled in a house that didn’t quite feel like a home anymore, they’d awake with burning eyes and aching lungs.  A new day would be a new start, but for them, they’d be reliving this tragedy for months to come.  For Keith and Keiko, once their friends went back to their own apartments and homes, they’d have to learn to live again – to wake up in a world without a husband and father.

Shiro’s ring glinted in the dim lamp light as Keith caressed Keiko’s cheek.  Darkness dipped into the letters of the engraving.

_Keith loves you, baby._

With Keiko’s breathing quieting, Keith finally allowed silent tears to roll freely down his cheeks.  His own ring weighed heavy on his finger, and reaching behind his sleeping daughter’s back, he pulled it off.  He wondered how long its indent would remain upon that third finger.  When it faded, when the finger itched for the weight to return, Keith would needle the band into his skin with ink.

With a quiet inhale, Keith reached into the hoodie pocket and drew out the dog tags.  They lightly clinked against each other as Keith unfastened the chain.  He slipped his ring onto it and watched it fall in front of the tags.

Gentle hands coaxed Keiko’s head up enough to slip the chain around her neck.  The tags settled between their chests, and even through the warmth of the hoodie, Keith felt the outline of the ring – the words of its engraving – upon his heart.

_Shiro loves you, baby._

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I'm so fcking sorry. Blame pbskids cause they had a show with the theme grown-ups come back and my mind kept going, except the one time they don't. So sad, angsty sheith happened.
> 
> But anyway, you can find me @ichibri on tumblr & twitter


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